No Day But Today
by Shelberrrz
Summary: Years after the end of the musical, our RENT characters find themselves trying to survive the apocalypse. lots of Maureen/Joanne & Amy/Mark.


**No Day But Today**

This story will revolve around Joanne, Maureen, and Mark in the beginning before they meet up with the Atlanta survivors. Takes places years after the end of the movie RENT and the very beginning of The Walking Dead.

* * *

**Chapter One: Welcome to Georgia**

It had been a couple of months since the outbreak struck in New York City, and the small group had managed to keep safe in the lower populated areas of the city. They had lost Mimi and Collins years ago to the disease that was slowly killing them long before the apocalypse was even a blip on their radar. Just when they thought they had found a place that would keep the remaining four of them safe for a little while, a herd passed through, destroying everything in their path, and taking Roger's life – at least, what little life he had left. He had fallen ill shortly after the outbreak. Had he been stronger, he might've been able to withstand the herd along with the rest of his group. They did everything they could to keep him safe, but it wasn't enough.

It was after the herd passed through that they realized it wasn't safe in New York at all. There were just too many roamers – that's what they called them; roamers – to fight off and too little places to hide. So they decided to head south into the country, maybe it would be safer there.

The small group of three in their mid-to-late thirties sat in silence in a taxicab they had stolen somewhere in New York. They'd managed to siphon enough fuel to keep it operational for this long, but they were running on their last gas can and hadn't seen another vehicle in miles. They had crossed the Georgia state line not too long ago, and the heat was beating down on the car. Joanne refused to turn on the air conditioning, though, to conserve fuel and just kept the windows rolled down as she drove a steady 80 MPH down the vacant interstate. Mark was to the right of her sitting in the passenger seat in a sweat soaked polo and Maureen lounged in the backseat alone regretting her liking of black leather pants. She shifted uncomfortably on the seat, trying to pick at the sticky fabric to relieve her suffocating legs if only for a moment, "Ugh," she groaned desperately, "okay, we've _gotta_ stop somewhere. I can't handle this anymore. I have to change these pants."

Joanne glared at her ex-wife through the rearview mirror, "You're kidding me, right? Where do you expect me to go, Maureen? I haven't seen anything but this interstate for miles, and I'm not stopping at the nearest super center just so you can change your pants."

"But why not?" Maureen whined.

"It's too dangerous, that's why," Joanne declared, glancing up at the brunette's reflection once more, "God knows how many roamers are wondering around in Wal-Mart." A sign that read _Wal-Mart Super Center_ and _Super 8_ off of the next exit just flew by their speeding cab, and Maureen practically bouncing off of her seat through the roof of the car, "C'mon, Pookie, _pleeeease_."

Joanne winced at that _word_; she hated being called that while they were together, and she hated it even more now that they were divorced, "Maureen, I said _no_," Joanne remarked sternly.

Mark took in a deep breath and released it in a form of a frustrated sigh, not wanting to continue listening to the couple's constant bickering, "Joanne," he said calmly, looking over at the former lawyer, "let's just go. We can check out the place before we even get out of the car, and if it looks too dangerous, we can get back on the interstate. Who knows, there may even be a car to siphon gas from."

Maureen beamed at her ex-boyfriend in the passenger seat, wanting to give him a big kiss right now, but even though her and Joanne were no longer together, she knew the jealous lawyer would have a cow at even the _thought_ of it. The brunette looked between the two in the front seat anxiously, watching Joanne's expression as the contemplated the idea.

"Fine," Joanne caved.

"Woohoo!" Maureen exclaimed, throwing her head back in excitement.

"But if I so much as see one roamer outside of that building, we're turning around."

Maureen pulled herself forward and placed a big, wet kiss on Joanne's cheek, who in turn forced her face away from her ex-wife, wiping at the residue left upon it. Maureen sunk back into her seat, faint disappointment on her features as she watched the look of disgust play across Joanne's expression. She was still mad at her because of what happened about a year ago. Maureen couldn't really blame her, either, but still – given all the time that had passed now and the circumstances they were under – she would've figured Joanne would have forgiven her by now.

Joanne took the next exit and headed for Wal-Mart. There were a few cars in the parking lot that looked as though they had already been broken into, so they'd be lucky if they had any gas left in them at all. Slowly, Joanne drove through the nearly empty lot, the three of them examining the outside of the building carefully. The automatic doors looked as though they had been pried open, obviously people had been here; scavengers. Maureen opened her car door, forcing Joanne to push down on her breaks as the brunette got out of the car.

"Maureen, what the _hell_ are you doing?" The lawyer asked impatiently, swinging her head around to look at her ex outside of her window.

"Pop the trunk," Maureen ordered, ignoring Joanne's question.

Mark leaned forward and did exactly that, and Maureen retrieved a trash bag from the roll they were keeping in the trunk. She reached back inside of her backseat and grasped her pistol, keeping it ready in front of her as she started walking toward the entrance of the building.

"Maureen!" Joanne called for her, frustration in her tone, but she got no response from the brunette. _Goddamn it, this girl is stubborn._ "Fuck," she muttered, looking in Mark's direction before holding out her hand. Mark retrieved her pistol from the glove box and placed it in her hand and he reached into the backseat for his machete. He didn't have the best aim, and regardless of his horrid upper body strength, when enough adrenaline is coursing through him, he does rather well with his machete. Joanne stepped out of the car clad in a pair of navy blue slacks with her suspenders that were once settled over her white tank top on her shoulders now hanging by her sides.

By the time Mark and Joanne made it toward the entrance, Maureen had already wondered inside the dim building, and the pair couldn't spot her anywhere in their line of vision through the darkness near the middle of the store. "Maureen always gets what she wants, doesn't she?" Mark raised an eyebrow, speaking softly as he looked over at Joanne. The lawyer didn't look back as an expression of slight worry appeared on her features, searching with her eyes, trying to spot her ex's location. "What she's gonna get is a slap upside her head when I find her."

* * *

Meanwhile, Maureen quickly found her way to the women's clothing section. Everything inside of the store looked as though it had been hit by a tornado, with shelves and racks all lying on the floor – merchandise tattered and broken, scattered around the aisles. Maureen set her eyes upon the most comfortable looking pair of shorts. She quickly peeled the sticky leather off of her long, pale legs before slipping on the much cooler pair of shorts and she finally felt like her legs could breathe. She began stuffing clothes into the trash bag for her and Joanne to change into later before making her way to the men's clothing section, grabbing a few changes for Mark as well. Even though it was the end of the world, that didn't mean they had to live like the walking dead. Maureen enjoyed being clean, and in case they were to ever come across a lake or something, she also dropped some body wash, shampoo, condition, razors, and other toiletries into the bag as well.

"Where the hell is she?" Mark asked quietly, becoming impatient and wanting to be in this building as much as Joanne did.

"Look," Joanne said as they neared the women's clothing section and noticed Maureen's discarded leather pants in the floor. That was when they both heard a scream coming from the other side of the building. Their gaze shot up at each other, and they took off in the direction of the scream, Joanne's high heels clicking against the tile floor.

"Maureen!" Joanne's voice was to the brim with worry for her ex lover now, the thought of some monster ripping into her was enough to bring tears to her eyes as they kept running toward the other side of the store. But they stopped abruptly when they noticed Maureen come flying around the corner, "Run, run, run!"

The pair waited for the brunette to catch up when they finally noticed why she was running in the first place. Roamers. A whole swarm of them following behind Maureen from around the corner. The small group of three ran as fast as they could out of the building and out toward their stolen taxicab. Leaping inside, Joanne started up the engine and in no time, they were back on the interstate, huffing and puffing.

After a moment or two of silence, a grin formed on Maureen's lips.

"What's in the bag?" Mark asked, noticing how full it was.

Maureen opened it up and handed them both a package of poptarts and a warm bottle of water, "There's a lot more where that came from too. I grabbed some canned food, toiletries, clothes, _oh_—" she paused, digging deep into the bag, "Pookie, do your feet hurt?"

Joanne cocked an eyebrow at Maureen in the rearview mirror, wiggling her toes inside of her high heels. Yes, as a matter of fact, her feet were aching like they have never ached before, "A little… why?"

Maureen's grin grew as she pulled out a pair of socks and tennis shoes, "These will probably feel a lot better, baby."

If Joanne's toes had mouths, they would probably be cheering right now, but Joanne didn't let it faze her too much. She still held a grudge toward the woman in the backseat – regardless of how her brain kept telling her to forgive and forget, her heart was still broken – but she couldn't hide the faint smirk that formed on her lips as she took the shoes in her hand, "Thank you."


End file.
